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Post by Memai on Jun 18, 2010 14:07:18 GMT -5
(( This RP takes place 4 years into the future, thus, characters are aged accordingly.))
Old, brownstone buildings littered the huge landmass that can only be identified as Thatcher University, trees were littered about the vast, grassy fields generously, while old styled bricked roads paved the way for students.
The school was one of the largest, and prestigious, in the New England area, but even more so for it's notorious affiliation with Bullworth Academy; the disciplinarian school known for its snobs and troublemakers, rather than its academic excellence. Any student from Bullworth would be quick to jump an undergrad program at this university, seeing as that anyone from the academy would have a near 100% acceptance rate.
It was bias, yes, but a neccessary one. With institutions like Yale, Oxford, Harvard and the like, it was hard to attract students from anywhere else; except for the closest town, and that just so happened to be Bullworth. Not that the students cared, so as long as they got into college they'd be alright for life, right? That's the whole point of going to high school right?
Some students, simply had nowhere to go; Roxanne Smith was trapped in the States as long as her father was Chief of Staff in his hospital, but there was an extensive medical program that she was interested in, so she paid no mind to it; perhaps a small, quaint obscure little college could charm the pants off the folks at Dundee, or even Cambridge!
For students like Chaplin Mano or Bo Jackson, an extensive sports program with a so-so liberal arts course didn't sound like a bad deal; it was close to home, it was in a familiar environment, and it was always cool to see friends from before come back into your life.
Makes you wonder why they have such emotional graduation ceremonies back in high school in the first place.
- - - -
Roxanne stared at her books as she loitered around the many benches littered about the university, "Cor..." It was another tiring, taxing theory class, but she didn't mind the struggle of entering a better school with a more advanced program.
As a young woman of twenty, she grew out from her awkward, child-like face; she was slightly taller, though still stood about an inch shorter than everyone else. Her figure more slender, with slight curves, her hair still in her trademarked bob. Her cheekbones were more defined now, lips a little bit more fuller, but she still had her dopey doe eyes to plague her.
Though she gave up the leather jackets and settled for fashionable dresses instead.
"Hi!" Chirped a familiar voice, Beatrice, "So coursemate, how's theory going?"
Beatrice too, had moved on from being an awkward bean pole, to a more refined woman, though she still had her breakouts, at least she had the decency to brush her hair more often now. And her braces were gone too, thank heavens.
"Tiring," an airy laugh from Roxy, "Lecturers can really, really go on."
"Ooh, yeah, you got that Gretchen woman, don't you?"
"Is that her name? I keep forgetting."
Sure, it looked cordial and friendly, they were both rivals though; both wanted a place in surgery, both wanted to attend the best medical schools of their respective countries, both were also awkward tiny, lanky things that could do with more social activity.
"Yeah, that's her, you know I..." Roxy stopped listening to her at this point, her mind blanking out. It had been doing this more and more often, but she blamed the lack of sleep she'd been getting.
"...Roxy?"
"Oh, yes, what? Sorry, umm, carry on..."
x x x x x
"Are you okay?" Bo Jackson looked down to his friend; none other than Chaplin Mano, "You look like shit."
"Thanks dude, really, I mean, I can always count on a brother to make my day even worse, right?" The Hawaiian barely changed his appearance throughout the years, he already had a particular set of features that stood out despite any age. A pro for exotic looks, the girls loved him still anyway.
The only thing that changed really, was that he was more toned than before, though it never showed through his particularly baggy style of dress; the Mano boy had more chances to work out, as the university had a properly equipped gym. But he usually hid it, not out of insecurity, but usually because he knew the game of teasing; tease and keep them keen, he'd been told once.
"You been drinking again?"
"Dude, I was bored and the other guys were over." That was his simple reasoning, though he wouldn't admit about the amounting pressure that was building on him, that would just be a sign of losing.
"Here man, I'll walk you back? You really don't look so good."
"Thanks," Bo grabbed his friend by the side, supporting him by holding his arm and keeping a hand on his taller friend's back, "You better clear up 'fore the game tonight. I don't want you passing out like last time."
"I hear ya, ma."
(( YOUR TURN! I know it looks innocent, but wait till the story progresses ;D ))
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cheshacatt
Junior Member
Nerds can't die. You can't kill what has no life.
Posts: 491
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Post by cheshacatt on Jun 18, 2010 16:05:46 GMT -5
Judith's back ached. If she got any more books, she'd overbalance and fall flat on her backside. And that would be rubbish. She'd already had to switch her beloved messenger bag for a backpack. English maor was hard.
Now aged nineteen, Judith hadn't changed a lot since her younger years, apart from having grown a bit taller and put a little weight on. She apparently now got a haircut very rarely, chopping it right to her jaw then letting the mane grow back again. And still the round glasses rested on her nose; people had been pestering her about those for years. Plus, she still enjoyed rollerskating, even investing in new boots as she outgrew her old ones.
However, a roller-skating, round-bespectacled ninteteen year old looked a little odd, and she got plenty more funny looks than she did in her early teens - ironic, really.
Still, despite the bajillions of books she had to lug around with her, English was a good subject. It was a tough choice between that or sport, until she remembered the only sport she was good at involved wheels.
"Oh, hi Judith!" Angie, peppy as always, greeted Judith with a cheery wave. "Are you going to the game tonight? I hear we're allowed to go and watch!"
Actually I'd rather ingest broken glass than watch 'roid monkeys chase after a stupid ball.
"Um, no thanks. I'm not really in the mood for it - I'm a little tired from all this reading." She hefted her bag up her shoulder.
Angie nodded, apparently understanding. It wasn't like she had an easy workload either, having taken maths or science or something like that. "Well, I'm going to go for a break. I'll see you there if you change your mind?"
"Sure." Judith waved her off as she left. Still ever the cheery acquaintance was Angie, inviting everyone to everything.
Lazily, Judith wandered off down one of the paths.
xxxxxx
Thatcher University wasn't exactly what Sebastian had in mind.
Yes, several other of the preps were attending, but his ultimate dream had always been music school. Of course his family wasn't happy about that, but what else was he good at? He continued with gymnastics, but a sports education here required a little more than just that. The music course here left rather a lot to be desired, but hell, at least he was playing the cello! It was considered refined enough, luckily for him.
Sebastian hadn't changed a lot since Bullworth, maintaining his height of six feet and his looks, only growing out of his odd teenage phase had defined his jaw and cheekbones slightly. He had, however, discarded that gaudy blue argyle, thank God.
With a sigh, he lifted the heavy cello case and strolled, letting himself wander off into a little daydream.
However, he was snapped out of this when he passed, and perhaps bumped into the edge of, a jock. A fairly small jock he recognised as Bo carrying another, taller one, who looked a little run down...
Ooh.
Run down, yet he couldn't stop himself staring. Sebastian recognised him as Chaplin, but apparently college had changed one's perspectives a little. He was rather, well...
"Watch where you're goin', idiot!" Bo gave Sebastian a dirty look. Now slightly red in the face, Sebastian mumbled a bashful "Sorry" and lowered his head, brown hair messy but not long enough to hide his face dammit, trying not to look at anyone.
((Edit where appropriate!))
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zimie
Junior Member
Hoo Hoo
Posts: 225
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Post by zimie on Jun 18, 2010 20:27:05 GMT -5
(Ok, my first one ..)
Everything is going to be different this year! A fresh new start, a new school, new friends, what could possible go wrong….
Oh yeah, everything…
Chloe sulked at the idea at being at a new school with familiar classmates. She knew most of the students who went to Bullworth Academy, went to Thatcher University. But one thing she didn’t get: why was she here? Well, there wasn’t any colleges that was accepting her application. But once she applied for Thatcher, mainly because it was the closes college to her, there wasn’t really a choice. Chloe wasn’t too happy about this. She knew several people she didn’t like, were going to be attending there as well.
But she did certainly miss her friends. She took a summer length vacation away from the destructive minds of Bullworth. But that didn’t stop her from missing those who she use to hang out with during those crazy years at Bullworth Academy. So, if there was a bright side, it was that.
Chloe’s appearance hasn’t change too drastically. Her face started to lose it’s pudginess, meaning losing her childlike features. She grew a inch, but she wish she could grow more. Her hair has grown longer and went a tad darker. Her eyes were the same as ever, and skin hasn’t change either.
She was walk towards the new dormitory, that was located on the school grounds, just like Bullworth A. She was dress in a blue strapless dress, that went to her thighs, a white short sleeve blouse, and black designer heels. She had a backpack on, slinging to one side of her body, a crate full of her belonging, such as clothes and books, and her purse, containing her wallet, makeup, and a planner that she barely use.
She looked down at her schedule which contained her room number, which dorm it will be in, and her classes.
“Hmmm… I guess I don’t have class until 12pm” Chloe said as she shuffled her way towards the dormitories. She looked at her schedule again, to make sure she was going the right way. On the paper, it said that she will be living in room 302 in Dorm A with 2 other roommates.
“ I hope it’s someone who won’t irritate the crap out of me” she said, as she looked up to the dorm ahead. On the front door, it had a gigantic A.
“Well….. Home sweet home, I suppose” she said as she walked inside.
(sorry for the short post, sorry for any grammerical relate things, sorry about EVERYTHING! k, I wanted to make this a bit longer, but I havent introduce my new OC, and I rather have that up before I reach that point. If there are mistakes please tell me, so I can correct them)
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Post by AshHavynn on Jun 19, 2010 21:51:47 GMT -5
((GET READY FOR A TIME WARP YOU GUYS REL AGED 1 YEAR MORE THAN EVERYBODY APPARENTLY BECAUSE ASH CAN'T DO SIMPLE ADDITION. And intentional run-on/wall-o-text time.))
GOD, 20 is a beautiful number! A beautiful age! Oh, fuck, it's a beautiful wine!--
Except, of course, that it is ultimately useless next to the number 21, which is the age you have to be to drink wine in America.
Not to mention, even her birthday was on the 21st of August... as if it were teasing her!
REL Wigglesworth sat in HER recently renovated summer home in picturesque Old Bullworth Vale on a bar stool, as if it were a throne and she were queen, in more ridiculous fabric than her slim waist knew what to do with. As she sat, she tapped her fingers to her polished purple lips and wondered why she hadn''t burned this shit hole down when she had the chance.
She hated Bullworth, and she HATED this house. She'd rather stay in Hawaii or California during the production of her Summer line (one of her many 'vacations' that seemed to dot her calendars like christmas lights in gaudy glitter gel pen). Whatever demon posessed her into thinking that a fabulous renovation of this dump from the carpet up would entice her heart into loving it again needed be promptly dragged out back and shot. Drawn. Quartered. BURNED.
An overbearingly huge decorative clock chimed. REL looked up at it in absent-mindedness to catch the reflection of her thin frame in one of the ludicrously dramatic mirrors that--for whatever poorly lead instinct of interior design--hung from the ceiling. A lot had changed since high school.
Her hair was shorter, and she wore it down more often. When she wore it up, she chose tiny french braids or dramatic up-dos with real human hair extensions. She ditched the pigtails--and those garish blonde streaks with them. Her hair was dyed a dark auburn-brown, with very natural highs and lows. She still preferred her make-up dark and tacky, but she went after a smoky grey eye and a more expensive lip color. She waxed her damned eyebrows thinner for a change. She plummeted from never leaving the house fresh-faced to never unlocking her bedroom door until there was at least concealer on. The twig was still underweight. Still 5'2". Still dark skinned. But the illusion of maturity crafted by the number "20" slapped on her Driver License made her strong cheek bones and gaunt face seem more appropriate than ill fed. The boob job didn't hurt either.
After the murder of her father, REL had inherited RWW Designs--and ALL of Daddy's money. It was about damned time, too.The old bastard didn't know a bloody thing about color theory--practically color -blind.- And he didn't know a thing about -publicity,- either. He attended meetings and fashion shows and premiers of movies that his pieces had managed to crawl into somehow, but no matter how you size it up, the man simply didn't take his clothes off in public enough. And everyone knows, you buy clothes for one reason:
To look fabulous enough to have people wanting to take them off.
The sound of REL's own sighing snapped her out of a mental state of nowhere, and she mistakenly thought that maybe an hour or so had passed as she traversed the (rather empty) inner labyrinths of her mind. She looked at the clock that had gone off -so- long ago... 3 minutes. Damn.
She might have clothes and a rising fame (or infamy) and a katrillion dollars, but it was time to face the music.
"I... am so bored... with my life."
It was at that moment that she heard something splat against her window. At first, she let out an exasperated grunt at the reminder that she was in Bullworth... But then a kind of lightbulb went off.
"...I wonder if there's a college around here..."
((REL is both silly and rich. We could call her eccentric, but that word might be too classy for her. I just can not take her seriously. And why yes, this IS just an introduction post.))
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Post by UnknownTerritory on Jun 21, 2010 17:52:01 GMT -5
((introduction posts = win))
Terrance sent a glare over at Gord, who sat on his bed, laughing to the point of tears. "It. Is not. Funny." Terrance growled, turning back to the mirror.
The sight of the black around his eye made him whimper. It was hideous!
"Oh dear lord, it is funny!" Gord cried, rolling over as her clutched his stomach. The result was the brunette falling off the bed with an 'oof'.
Terrance rolled his eyes, grabbing the cover up from the dresser top. He tabbed some onto the triangle thing (I DO NOT KNOW THE NAME) and attempted to cover up the bruise. When he realized you could still see the bruise, and the fact that the skin tone was way off, he wiped it off. "Blast it!!" He shouted.
Gord slithered up next to Terrance, smiling cheerfully. "Oh, it makes you look so tough!"
"It is hideous!" Terrance glared at him.
Gord suddenly gasped, grabbing Terrance by his shoulders. "You still have your tongue ring!!" The ex-prep cried in cheer.
Terrance pulled back, his face turning red from embarrassment. "Hush!" He snapped. He turned back to the mirror, sighing. That bruise really was hideous.
He hadn't even done anything to deserve it! All he did was tell some lady that a size four would not fit her, that maybe one of those Extra Large would. Then her husband caught wind and punched him! I mean, really! I was just trying to be helpful!
Terrance sighed, glancing over at Gord. He was so bored, the only thing he could do was hang out with Gord. Which was boring. Terrance looked back at the mirror, tilting his head to the side.
Over the years he had let his hair grown out, so it reached his mid-neck, and he had gotten his other ear pieced. He had grown slightly, but still had the womanly figure, which was hard for him to get woman with. But girls liked a girl with a tongue ring, right?
At that thought Terrance began to play with his tongue ring. Maybe it wasn't as bad as he thought. It was pretty fun to play with...
"And it was amazing when you gave me that blowjob!" Gord said, his breath making Terrance's ear tickle. The blond jumped in surprise, looking over at Gord, his eyes wide.
"How did you-"
"You always play with that thing when you think about it." Gord giggled.
Terrance frowned and punched his arm, "That was one time, and I was drunk! I told you to never speak of it again!"
Gord shrugged, "Opps." The smile never left his face.
Terrance rolled his eyes. He had no idea why he was still speaking to this fool. "I am bored here. We are going out." He stomped to the door.
"Oh, where?!" Gord ran after Terrance, grinning now.
Terrance shrugged, "No where fun. We are only nineteen, what can we actually do?"
"Have sex legally!!" Gord said immediately.
Terrance sent him an annoyed look, "Shut up and let's go." He said, walking out the door, Gord following quickly after.
((It sucks. Boo hoo. I'm sick. Bleh. See?))
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Post by Chelsea Saughton on Jun 21, 2010 18:30:33 GMT -5
Kay was on her second last year of University. She was studying Physics and Computer science. She was living the dream.
Fortunately, she had her friends with her. Thatcher University had an extensive science faculty. Bucky was still around in the Maths department. He really enjoyed maths.
Kay stood in her room in her apartment. She was getting ready for class. She slung on her jeans and tee shirt and tied her long hair in a pony-tail. At least someone with a vague knowledge of hair was cutting it now. She had a neat side fringe and her hair had less split ends...
She looked in the bathroom mirror while she brushed her teeth, looking past her own reflection through the door to the room behind her.
It was a very small apartment. One small bedroom with a toilet. The "kitchen" was a small indent in the bedroom, a gaudy bead curtain serving as the "kitchen door".
She was looking over at one of the tiny, slim single beds squeezed into the room. A small bundle of a figure was wrapped up tightly in the quilts, still very much asleep. Kay had left the curtains closed so she didn't wake her.
When Kay's finally spat out her toothpaste and wiped her mouth crassly with the back of her huge hand, she walked back through to the bedroom. She went into their small, boxy fridge and retrieved a carton of milk. She took out a box of cereal, a bowl and a spoon from the cabinet. She loaded all of it on to a tray, followed by a glass of orange juice and took it to the occupied bedside.
She set it down as quietly as she could.
She didn't wake the girl. She didn't have the heart, she'd let her sleep. Kay smiled grimly down at her, a mixture of admiration and frustration.
One day... one day I'll tell you... She thought tenderly.
She reached down and rested two fingers against her cheek. She felt warm. Kay let her touch linger for a second before walking towards the tiny desk fan on the table between their beds and switching it on. They couldn't open the windows...
Kay sighed and picked up her old, battered red rucksack and unlocked, unbolted and unchained the heavy door. She'd sacrificed a major upgrade to her laptop for a reinforced door. Out in the hall, she turned and double locked it again before posting the keys through the door. There could only be one set of keys.
If Kay was... compromised... The keys could easily fall into other hands. It was safe this way.
-- It was only a ten minute walk from her apartment to the University. Kay met Beatrice along the way and they chatted amicably until they got to the science building where Beatrice waved and left for Medical Studies.
Kay went to her lecture light hearted.
((Did it suck?))
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Post by Memai on Jun 22, 2010 9:43:12 GMT -5
Thump!
A thick, near intimidating stack of books suddenly slammed onto the table right next to Roxy, sending the poor blonde into a shock.
"Hi, Rox," and a lanky awkward girl took the spot beside her.
"Oh, erm, hello, Beatrice," the blonde stared at the girl a little longer, she wasn't sure how she felt about the taller girl after coming to Thatcher. During her stay in Bullworth, Beatrice was always with Kay, Kay made sure Beatrice was kept in line and didn't say anything too awkward.
Or too desperate.
But Roxy never knew about Bea's little obsession for the medical profession. That was, until registration day came about and they had both bumped into each other. The English girl didn't think much of the lanky, spectacled social mishap, until she couldn't stop blathering on about how much of a fantastic surgeon she'll be.
You? My whole family's renowned in the medical field, you'd be only second best!
That thought scared her initially, she sounded too much like Derby and too much like those ill-forsaken prep school brats. However, as days went on and semesters turned to years, Roxanne had grown something of a disdain towards Beatrice.
"So, I heard there's going to be a group project coming up," Beatrice said as she flipped through her book, skimming the first few pages of the chapters ahead of the scheduled lesson.
"You want to be partners then?" Roxy began to play with the pen in her hand mindlessly, a nervous tic she had developed over the years, "I really wouldn't mind, Bea."
"Well," Beatrice looked smugly over at the girl beside her, "I would've considered. You're quite intellectually adept, though you can be a bit emotional at times and it does get in the way of your work sometimes--"
EMOTIONAL?!
"Regardless, I think you'd make an excellent doctor! But I think I'll have to decline you this one time, Rox."
"Oh?"
"Well, you see," Beatrice smiled bashfully here, "I'm pairing up with Javier."
"Javi... Javier? I thought he disgusted you to the point that you scrubbed yourself down three times before even thinking of going on that practical with him for two weeks!"
"Oh yeah, he's gross, definitely," a crinkled nose, a disgusted expression, but that quickly changed when the next train of thought crept into her mind, "But he's got tickets to the basketball game tonight. I don't think he wants them, I asked, and maybe he can trade those tickets for an A grade!"
"I didn't know you liked sports. I fancy a bit of football myse--"
"OH NO!" Beatrice said, horrified, "I don't much like sports."
"I'm sure there's a reason why you want to consciously go and sit for two hours watching lean little boys throw a ball around."
"Hopkins," a high-pitched, squealing giggle erupted from Beatrice, causing the steady stream of other med students coming into the classroom to stare at her.
"Hopkins? As in, James Hopkins? That notorious little boy who spray painted my bike with a grossly drawn penis?"
"Yes."
"Good lord, Beatrice," Roxy looked to her in shock, "I thought you were going out with--"
"Shh!" A finger to the blonde's lips, "He doesn't know I'm going, I just want to see though. See if Jimmy's well... I just want to look, okay?"
"Oh..."
"Promise me, Roxanne, that you won't tell you-know-who?" the lanky girl pleaded, holding the English girl's hands in her own and giving her that puppy dog stare.
Can I even say no at this point? "Don't worry, Beatrice, I won't tell him."
"Ahh! Thank you!" Beatrice enveloped the girl in a sudden hug.
I don't like how you liberally use your bragging rights, Beatrice. But you seem to be the only one in this entire course who wants to talk to me.
x x x x x
The loud whistle could be heard from across two courts, but that still didn't wake Chaplin up from his stupor. Everyone on the court had assumed he was playing as if this was a casual, nothing-for-nothing game between friends.
What they don't know was that he was running his mind and body at maximum efficiency (well, as efficient as one could get during a hangover), and pushing it any farther would only lead him face-down on the asphalt.
"C'MON MANO!" He could hear the coach shout.
"OKAY, DAMNIT!"
He knew, he could play his best tonight, he knew what he was going through now, was something that would pass in the next half hour. He needed to stew around for a minute, let his system reconnect.
But this crazy training session wasn't doing anything for him right now.
"I'M OPEN!" He grabbed the ball that was bounced his way, halting with a squeak before changing direction, avoiding the other lean, lanky bodies throwing themselves in front of him.
Chaplin managed to dribble around his opponents, all of them familiar faces; he could vaguely make out the faces of Jimmy and Kirby in the mess of hands and Chuck Taylors squealing on the court.
Ahhh, shit, my head hurts! He couldn't concentrate as he usually could in-game, his vision was slightly blurry, his head was throbbing, he had to make this one shot to get the coach off his back.
He tried to jump to pass the ball over to another opponent, but just as he did...
THUD!
"FOUL, DAMNIT! FOUL!" The high pitched whistle, the sound of mumbled, nosy assumptions as they hovered over him, the new feeling of pain in his side, the throbbing of his head and the feel of asphalt on his back were the last things he could remember that day.
And it faded to black...
(( TL;DR-- Roxy is secretly rivals with Bea, but she can't possibly hate her. Chaplin is training for the game tonight, but his hangover totes didn't help him. ))
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zimie
Junior Member
Hoo Hoo
Posts: 225
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Post by zimie on Jun 22, 2010 14:13:28 GMT -5
“Ugh! If I have to go up another flight of stairs, I’ll die!” Chloe sighed, as she made her way up the final steps.
When she was going to Bullworth A., the stairs were murderous. She wasn’t exactly in shape, but she wasn’t completely weak. But after being at Bullworth for those few years, she was able to get up the two flights of stairs in the school building without being completely exhausted.
When she got to the top of the steps, she saw two entryways. On the left, it read [300-309] next to the entryway, while the one on the right read [310-319]. She looked at her shedule again, to make sure she was getting the number right. Her room number was 302, which means she had to go through entry way to the left. As she walked down the hallway, she saw 5 doors to her left, and 5 doors to her right. The first door she came to was 309, on her left.
“Hmm, so my room must be down this hallway, on the right” she said.
As she walked down the hallway, she looked towards the right until she landed on the number 302. Chloe looked at it for a few seconds, and took a deep breath and opened the door.
The room was pretty spacious with a small kitchen with an island counter. There was a living/dining room area off the kitchen. Chloe walked forward and looked to her right. There was a small hallway, which had a door on each side. She heard some music coming from the one on the wall she was facing. She looked to her left and saw, along the same wall where the music was blaring, was 2 other doors. Chloe sat her stuff down and walked towards the door on the right, where the music was. She knocked on the door and waited a few seconds, to see that nobody answer it. She knocked again, this time a bit louder, and still nothing. Final she open the door, to only be smothered in smoke. Chloe stagger back, coughing from the sudden impact of smoke. When she was able to stop coughing, she straighten up to see a female figure in the middle of the room. She was sitting on what looked like a child size beanbag, facing the opposite wall. Chloe started to walk in, to get a better picture of the figure.
“Hi, my name is Chloe,” she said, as she held out a hand.
The female figure didn’t move. Chloe looked at the figure and sighed. So she decided to be a bit louder.
“HEY, MY NAME IS CHLOE!” she yelled. The female figure shifted in her seat. Then she turned to her stereo that was sitting on her right, and turned it off. Chloe started to step back, as the female started to stand up. The girl turned and faced Chloe, and all Chloe did was gasp. She started to step backwards, with her finger now pointing at the girl.
“YOU’RE……YOU’RE…..” was all Chloe could muster up before going into complete shock. The other girl stared down at Chloe. She stared to get closer to Chloe, who could no longer move.
“I’m what? Spit it out, twerp” she said, bending forward, glaring at Chloe.
Chloe finally snapped out it and said, “YOUREMONROENOEL!!!!”
The girl rose an eye brow and straighten up.
“What did you say?”
“You’re….. Monroe Noel…..right?” Chloe asked, eyes as wide as ever.
The other girl rose both of her eyes brows, then nodded.
“Yeah, that’s my name… do I know you?” she asked.
Chloe was stun. She knew she looked way to familiar. Granted, she looked older, but she never thougth she would ever see her again.
“You… use to pick on me at Bullworth Academy. You called me ‘shortie’, ‘inbred’ and other hurt names,” Chloe said, looking down at the ground.
Monroe looked at her, narrowing her eyes. Then they shot back up, with a grin on her face.
“Oh yeah, you’re Chloe ‘McShortie’!” she said. Chloe looked back up at her, then back down.
“I can't believe we're rooming together,” she said, chuckling.
Chloe started to walk backwards, to get out of the room and run like hell, but then Monroe grabbed her by the shoulders.
“Ahh we’re going have a great year, arent we?” she said.
Chloe looked into her eyes, which looked glazed over for reason unkown. And the only thing she could say was, “ Why does this room and your breathe smells like burnt sage.”
((PHEEWW done. now, I shall go eat some nummy food))
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Post by Chelsea Saughton on Jun 22, 2010 17:45:46 GMT -5
Kay looked down at her phone, which had vibrated in her pocket. She had a text from Bucky. She smiled. He was so happy these days..." Hey Kay. Me and Bea are going to see a movie after class, are you game? I'm so happy to be dating her. She's the love of my life!! I hope you can come!! xx Bucky." Kay sighed. She was happy for Bucky, but she saw in Bea's actions... She just didn't seem as into him as he was to her. Kay hoped he wouldn't get his heart broken... But does anything good ever come of hoping your heart doesn't get broken?Kay day dreamed of a million scenarios of admitting it to her... A million different ways. She could spell it out in alphabet soup? Write it into a game? Write it on her arm so she'd see it when she woke up?No. All of that was just creepy. Kay kicked herself mentally for being such a social dork. Never before had she wished she had social skills. She couldn't ask any of her friends to help. Bucky was the only one to be dating out of her circle of friends and that had just sort of "happened".
Kay wished things would just "happen" for her. She grumbled inwardly.That'sbecause for things to happen, two people need to like one and other... not just a one way track. A nasty little voice in her head reminded her. Kay sighed again, her chest feeling crushed. Her phone went again. She looked down." Oh, and maybe we could go back to your apartment for a bit..? xx Bucky" Kay clenched her teeth. He'd been hinting at this for a while. He and Bea loved in the student accommodation. He'd been wanting to see her apartment... but Kay was refusing. She'd made up countless excuses. Kay decided she'd have to make a very convincing excuse. He was already getting suspicious, but Kay knew he'd never confront her. But still, she hated hiding things from him..." Sorry Bucky... I gotta brush up on my string theory tonight... You know how i get. Maybe another time? xxKay." The text had only been sent a few mmoments and she recieved one back. " " Kay's heart felt heavy. She hated having to lie to him and avoid him. Clearly things were tense and awkward between he and Bea when they were alone. He'd prefer her to help break the ice and ease the atmosphere... But she just couldn't allow him back to her apartment.((I want DJ to post. :3))
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Post by AshHavynn on Jun 22, 2010 21:29:22 GMT -5
(Oh christ who is in that bed I know who it is oh fuck shit)
"And you'll need to fill out form 28B in duplicate, and we'll need the corresponding form 302IBS in triplicate... and.. Miss Wigglesworth?"
REL stood at a help desk in Thatcher University, staring with a doe-in-headlights look at these papers. She'd managed to get her personal assistant away finally, and now everywhere she went it seemed like someone wanted her to fill something out! Even the people at the bloody grocery store wanted her to autograph all the receipts or something... Wasn't that the point of swiping the card? So you wouldn't have to fill out a check? I mean, who uses those anyway?
"Miss Wigglesworth!" REL looked up from the paperwork slowly and glared. She reached into her bra and pulled out a wad of bills and threw it at the woman, dropping her pile of applications and forms and what-have-yous on the desk in a flurry.
"Here! Do it yourself! Just... write anything! Hell, I don't CARE! I just want my class schedule," she whined.
The only papers REL liked filling out were personality surveys that told her she was like a purple tiger with Madonna star power and triple future fortune. This 'college' thing was just not going to be her thing.
((HEY THERE WE GO NOW PEOPLE CAN LIKE... SAY HI OR SOMETHING. And REL's brain was made for bitching and propaganda. Not smart people stuff. So now we all get to see the lazier, blonder side that was less apparent in high school.))
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Post by professorpineapple on Jun 23, 2010 16:41:21 GMT -5
((College!REL makes me smile )) After the kitchen fire at Old Bullworth Vale's burger joint, Stevie Stapleton's mornings were free. Three times a week, anyway, until all the repairs were done. Mr. Huntingdon said it would only take a few days, but almost three weeks had gone by. There was some "complication with the reconstruction process", Stevie had been told. He hadn't cared enough to ask about the details. It was kind of nice, having time to kill before his shift at Worn In.
Stevie hacked, and spat onto the grass in the courtyard of Thatcher University. Trent Northwick gave him a hard thump on the back, and Stevie rubbed his mouth on the sleeve of his faded flannel shirt."Sorry," said Stevie, "Go on." "So Kirby's got a game tonight," the blond said. "Starts at six-thirty. I can get you in, if you want." Stevie looked up at him. At eighteen years old, he was still no more than five feet tall. If it bothered him, he certainly didn't show it.
He eyed Trent curiously. They were nicer to him now, the older boys from Bullworth. Stevie didn't see too much of them anymore, but when he did, they seemed to show him something like respect. More like an old friend than a sidekick. And Stevie knew why - at least, he had a pretty good idea.
This year would've been his last at Bullworth Academy, but he hadn't seen any reason to stick around. Stevie wasn't smart enough for college, and he knew the longer he waited around, the harder it'd be to finally man up and move out. So, he took care of that early. He shared a trailor in Blue Skies with a pair of construction workers and an old timer who'd served in 'Nam. He had five part-time jobs - four 'til the Burger Joint was up and running again. He was an adult. And it was really, really boring."Dunno," he said after a moment. "Maybe. I'll be late." "That's fine," said Trent, with a pearly-white smile. Now twenty-one, his acne had cleared up, and his hair had been cut into a short, shaggy kind of fringe. He was rather good-looking, this junior acting major. Stevie had heard he was something of a slut, but he didn't know if that was true. He had a feeling that it was."Listen, I gotta get to class," Trent said, "Call me when you get off work, OK?" "Yeah," said Stevie. "Seeya." And with that, Trent disappeared into one of the tall, brick buildings of Thatcher University. Stevie stood, feeling quite alone. He visited this campus fairly often, but only because his friends were here - he did not like this place at all. He didn't belong here. It made him uncomfortable.
But, there were still a few hours left to kill. He sat in the grass, in the shade of a tall tree. With a grubby-nailed finger he flicked opened his old cigarette case. It was empty.
Stevie sighed, snapping it shut. He caught his blurred reflection on the back, slightly obscured by a little red sticker. A person could change a lot in four years, but Stevie was an exception. His hair reached his shoulders now, his hat was long gone, and, if he felt like it, he could grow a pretty sweet 'stache in a matter of days. But, he didn't have one at the moment, so he didn't look much different than he did in the eighth grade. There were still those big, buggy eyes, and the crooked teeth, and the androgynous sort of face. Cute, in an ugly sort of way - or ugly, in a cute kind of way. Like a pug.
A girl walked passed without noticing him, down one of the bricked pathways that crisscrossed the campus. Stevie didn't know her name, but he recognized her from school - those thick, dark curls and round glasses were hard to forget. He vaguelly remembered calling her "four-eyes" in school, but that wouldn't be proper, so he just said, "S'cuse me." When she turned, he tilted his head towards her. "Got any cigarettes?" ((Sorry, lame post. If you want me to delete it, lemme know))
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cheshacatt
Junior Member
Nerds can't die. You can't kill what has no life.
Posts: 491
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Post by cheshacatt on Jun 24, 2010 17:57:41 GMT -5
"Got any cigarettes?"
Judith recognised the boy, his odd dark eyes still bold as ever. They'd only met once or twice, though, and only then for him and his dumb bully cronies to poke fun at her glasses.
Ah well, who gives a shit. And people change, don't they?
She shook her head at him. "Nah. I don't smoke. Sorry." For a moment, she thought.
Oh what the hell, he doesn't even come here.
"Why do you smoke, anyway? It's gotta hurt, all that crap in your lungs, surely?"
In the subtlest way possible, Judith asked questions about things she knew nothing about, despite being in damn university, and decided to have a little chat with this now-stranger.
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Post by professorpineapple on Jun 25, 2010 19:55:37 GMT -5
"It's gotta hurt, all that crap in your lungs, surely?"
Stevie pondered this for a moment. "Not really," he said, "I just spit up brown stuff sometimes. It looks cool, though - the smoking part, not the spitting-up part."
He smiled lazily. Peoples' reactions to that statement varied. Girls tended to scoff and roll their eyes. Stevie didn't know what was up with that - he was just being honest. Really, there was no other reason to smoke. It was a weird question. He wondered why so many people asked.
"Why don't you?" he asked. He drew his knees up to his chest, and wrapped his arms around them. "You rollerskate, right? Cigarettes look good with rollerskates."
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cheshacatt
Junior Member
Nerds can't die. You can't kill what has no life.
Posts: 491
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Post by cheshacatt on Jun 25, 2010 21:33:33 GMT -5
"You rollerskate, right? Cigarettes look good with rollerskates."
"Oh wow, uh, that really doesn't sound healthy, jeez..." Judith realised he'd asked a question, and raised an eyebrow and cocked her head. "Really? I, uh, I wasn't aware of that."
Does it? Wow, you learn something new every day, I guess...
She quickly snapped out of her little confused stupor and carried on talking. "But smoking'd make it harder to rollerskate. Imagine going 'round the roller derby rink at, like, a gazillion miles an hour, I'd run out of breath and it'd be terrible!" She looked over her glasses at him. "Plus, if I started hacking up that crap you said you do, that'd be... well, inconvenient!"
With a sigh, she shrugged her shoulders. "But hey. You want to keep doing it, I'm not gonna stop you."
((Moar about Seb-man when I'm more awake :>))
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Post by AshHavynn on Jun 26, 2010 11:30:23 GMT -5
Throwing money at the receptionist only half worked. She kinda sorta highlighted some things, and kinda explained the jist of some stuff, but then she just sent REL on her way to go fill it out herself.
And thus, the diva found herself sitting out in the courtyard on some random bench struggling with these bloody papers... Why was school such a bureaucracy?
"Social Security Number.... What in the world, oh, why would I know? These people expect me to remember -everything-," she grumbled, flipping through the stacks of forms.
Maybe some cute smart boy will come by. It's possible, right?
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